“Some bumps and bruises, but we're dealing with them.”

Austin borrowed the microphone. “This is Kurt Austin. I've got a couple of friends aboard your ship. Could you tell me how Paul and Gamay Trout are doing?”

There was a heavy silence, and at first it seemed that the radio transmission had again been cut short. Then the voice came on. “I'm sorry to tell you this. They were making a plankton survey in the Zodiac inflatable when the whirlpool pulled them in. We tried to go to their aid, and that's when we got in trouble.”

“Did you actually see them in the whirlpool?”

“We were pretty busy, and the visibility is practically nil.”

“How close are you to the whirlpool now?”

“We're about a mile away. We don't dare get any closer. The currents flowing around that thing are still pretty strong. What do you want us to do?”

“Stay as close as you're able. We're coming over to take a look.”

“Will do. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Austin said, turning to Cabral. “Pete, I'd like to borrow the ship's helicopter. How soon can you have it ready to fly?”

Cabral was aware of Kurt's reputation at NUMA. He knew that despite Austin's easy smile and casual manner, this self-assured man with the battering ram shoulders and pale hair could handle whatever weirdness was going on. Cabral was a seasoned mariner, but the developing situation was beyond his ken. He would keep the ship going and let Austin deal with the rest.

“It's all fueled and ready to go. I'll tell the crew to meet you there.” He picked up the intercom microphone.

Austin suggested that the NUMA ship stay at its present course and speed. Then he and Zavala raced down to the helicopter pad on the main deck, stopping first at the ship's supply room for a few items. The deck crew had the engine warming up in the McDonnell Douglas light utility helicopter. They climbed into the cockpit and buckled up. The rotors thrashed the air and the chopper lifted off the deck, then scudded low over the water.

Austin scanned the sea through a pair of binoculars. After the helicopter had been in the air for several minutes, he spotted the antennae and then the superstructure of the NOAA ship. It was near a circle of dark ocean that dwarfed the ship in size. The whirlpool seemed to have stopped growing, but he had to admire the gutsiness of those on the Franklin for staying close to the maelstrom.

Zavala moved the helicopter a couple of hundred feet higher, keeping the aircraft on a straight-line course headed directly for the vortex. As they drew nearer, he said:

“It looks like a volcano caldera.”

Austin nodded. There were some volcanic similarities, mainly having to do with the funnel shape of the hole, and the mist issuing from it. The steamy exhalation was the source of the haze that covered much of the ocean.